


Ever Since We Met

by sohox



Series: Fell to the Top [2]
Category: Bandom, Rhett & Link
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Hate Sex, M/M, bdsm undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 14:48:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20743970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohox/pseuds/sohox
Summary: Brendon can have anyone he wants, people fall all over themselves to let him have his way with them. But that’s not what he wants right now. He wants to give up the control. He wants to be used, told what to do, how to take it.





	Ever Since We Met

**Author's Note:**

  * For [captainsourwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainsourwolf/gifts), [mythicaliz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythicaliz/gifts).

> Thank you to Elizabeth (captainsourwolf) for our Marathon smut writing sessions.
> 
> And again to Liz (Mythicaliz) for adding fuel to the trash fire that is my brain. I wouldn’t not have been brave enough to put this on paper if you didn’t insist.
> 
> This follows Fell to the Top, so you should read that before reading this.

They spend four more days in the studio, finally getting that note just right for the song. Four more days of him trying to corner Rhett and ask what’s going on between them, but every time he tries to get him alone, Link is just there. He’s always crowded into Rhett’s personal space, they lean toward each other like magnets. And at one point Rhett steals Link’s glasses, putting them on his own face, and Brendon’s eyes blur at the intimacy. 

He’s really confused, because it’s not even that he’s into Rhett. Yeah, he wanted to fuck him. But he’s done that now. He’s a notch in his belt, and Brendon should be satisfied with that. He can have anyone he wants, any guy or girl. People fall all over themselves to let him have his way with them. But that’s not what he wants right now. What he wants is what Rhett gave him. He wants to give up the control. He wants to be used, told what to do, how to take it. He wants to be held tight, small against Rhett’s giant body. He wants to be able to lean in, mouth close to Rhett’s ear, and whisper secrets, they way Link is doing right now. 

The sound crew and the band started grumbling hours ago wanting to break for dinner, and when they all piled into two cars to leave Brendon hoped he could use the opportunity to get Rhett alone, to recreate the scene from earlier that week. He was half hard just thinking about that crackle of energy that radiated between them. He’s been ready and waiting for days. 

But Link didn’t take the fucking hint and leave with them. Instead, they’re both sitting behind the mixing board. He’s still in the booth and his whole body is tense, strumming with pent up frustration and Rhett is just grinning at whatever Link is whispering against the gentle curve of Rhett’s ear. 

Brendon regrets his actions as soon as the moment is over, and he’s grateful that the plexi-window separating them is still intact, but the microphone he hurled against it lies in pieces in the booth’s floor. 

Rhett and Link both jump up, outrage splashed across Link’s face. Brendon looks to Rhett and there’s nothing but stone cold fury shimmering in his eyes. “Get out here.” His voice is hard, giving nothing away in his inflection and Brendon’s whole body hums at the command. He’s never been so scared, so frustrated, or so hard in his life. 

“Rhett -“ Link started to say something, but Rhett’s hand comes up to stop him. 

“I said get out here, Urie.” And as if he’s on autopilot, Brendon’s body obeys. A surge of adrenaline slams into Brendon as he comes through the door of the booth, walking until he’s standing directly in front of Rhett. He’s overcome by how much larger Rhett is, almost a foot taller, and Brendon has to tilt his chin up to look in his eyes. 

Rhett’s blazing eyes are holding his gaze, Link all but yelling in the background and Brendon can only just make out what he’s saying. 

“I thought you said you settled this with him, Rhett. Fucked some sense into him. You didn’t say he was goin’a go around, breakin’ our equipment.” 

Brendon’s whole body flushed with white hot embarrassment, and he hates the tiny shake he can hear in his own voice. “You told him about us?”

Link goes quiet, eyebrows raised, standing just beyond Rhett’s left shoulder. The atmosphere in the studio shifts and the only sound Brendon can hear is the rush of blood in his ears. Rhett takes a tentative step forward, long, tan, muscular arm coming forward and he hooks a finger just into the waistband of Brendon’s impossibly tight pants. 

“I share everything with him.” 

Brendon can hear when Link’s breath hitches, flits his eyes over just in time to see the older man’s pronounced Adam’s apple bobbing with the gulp he swallows down. His eyes lock for a second with the glacial blue eyes hidden behind black frames, and for a second Brendon is struck with the idea of how alike they look. 

Then Rhett’s speaking again, voice deeper than he’s ever heard. “I share everything with Link. My life. My work...” he steps around Brendon, one hand pressing flush against his hard belly, coming to stand directly behind him, flush against his back and ducking his head low until his mouth is right at Brendon’s ear. “Everything. And now...you.” 

Brendon’s whole body sags back against Rhett, every nerve ending awake and on fire. He can’t help but look up at Link’s face, thinks oh and pretty.

“Brendon,” Rhett’s voice is so hot in his ear his knees tremble, cock straining against his pants so hard. “That microphone you just broke? That microphone was Link’s favorite microphone.” Rhett’s hands slide up the taut muscles of Brendon’s forearms, skimming past the sleeves of his tight black t-shirt. They snake over his shoulders and come to rest on either side of his neck, finger tips snaking down to press insistently against the skin at the base of his throat. “Don’t you think you should apologize?” 

Completely dazed, Brendon can feel his body moving forward, ushered toward Link by the hands on his throat. For his part, Link looks completely dazed too, full lips parted open, chest heaving under his tight button down. Humiliation is brewing in Brendon’s belly, imagining what Rhett might have told Link about their encounter. Is that what they’d been whispering about this whole time? 

“I-I’m sorry...” he feels a prickle in his eyes, and his cock has never been this hard in his life. “I’m so sorry, Link.” 

“What d’you think, bo?” Rhett asks, voice so rough with want. Link nods, now just a step away from Brendon’s body. He reaches an arm forward, hand coming up to Brendon’s chin, his thumb stroking the stubble under his bottom lip. “I think you should show me.”

“Rhett?” Brendon’s voice sounds small even to his own ears. He’s looking for permission, as if this isn’t exactly what Rhett wants. Rhett’s hands are pushing him down, and he finds himself on his knees, hands shaking as he reaches toward the button of Link’s jeans. Link’s breathing so hard above him and when he looks up at the man, he seems impossibly large. He pulls Link’s cock out of his pants. Brendon’s surprised to find that Link is actually longer than Rhett, if not quite as thick. 

“Go on...” Rhett moves one hand to Brendon’s hair, pushing him forward. Brendon has always lived by the model show, don’t tell. So he wraps his hand firmly around the base of Link’s cock, gathers every bit of moisture in his mouth, and spits right onto Link’s head, surging forward to take him into his mouth. He hears a quiet “fuck” tumble out of someone’s mouth, but he couldn’t tell who. Instead he’s lost in the feel of Link, hot and thick on his tongue, Rhett’s hands all over him from behind. He’s never felt quite this helpless, crowded between these two giants, small and quiet and ready for whatever they want to do to him. 

“Fuck his mouth, bo.” Link breaks just for a moment, looking down into Brendon’s face as if to ask “yeah?” And Brendon can’t help the moan that escapes out of his throat, reverberating around Link. And just like that, Link abandons resolve, pistoning his hips forward, pressing his cock hard and fast as deep as Brendon can take him. 

One of Rhett’s hands drop away from Brendon’s shoulders, coming up to tangle itself into Link’s shirt, pulling him forward so that Rhett can crash their mouths together. Brendon is surrounded, trapped between the bodies of the other two men. It’s overwhelming and he feels powerless and he is so fucking in love with the feeling. 

Link breaks the kiss first, breathing so hard, forehead pressed into Rhett’s throat. He’s angled so that he can look down at Brendon, cast in the soft glow of light in the studio. “Gosh, he looks so fuckin good like that. M’not sure how much longer I can last like this.” 

Rhett’s hand curled around Brendon’s throat, pulling him back, off Link’s cock, spit and precum stretching off Brendon’s lips. “You’re not comin’ til I’m comin’, bo.” He pulls Brendon up, hands strong under Brendon’s armpits. He leads them over to the couch, unbuttoning his jeans along the way, grabbing something from his pocket before letting the fabric pool down to his feet, stepping out of them before he sits. His cock is flushed deep red, heavy against his belly. “I want you to get my cock wet.” He says to Brendon. He holds up a small bottle of lube to Link, “And I want you to get him wet.” 

Both men immediately spring to action, Brendon’s out of his pants in record time, then on his knees in front of Rhett. Link settles in behind him, pulling the smaller man’s shirt off, dragging his hips backward to give Link better access to his rounded ass. Brendon’s mouth is sloppy on Rhett’s cock. He’s totally shameless, just trying to make sure Rhett feels as good as possible. He feels completely exposed and he’s out of his mind with it. 

Link’s not taking his time at all, he’s immediately pressing into Brendon with two fingers, sinking deep right off the bat. Brendon thanks the universe he’s spent every night fingering his own hole, trying to recreate the feelings Rhett left him with that day. He takes him, no problem and tries to work Rhett even deeper down his throat to show thanks. It’s so intensely good, feeling Link’s long sure fingers scissoring inside his tightness, but he knows it’s not enough. He needs the stretch of a cock like his life depends on it. He pushes deeper onto Rhett’s cock one last time, gagging hard around him, then he pulls off, mouth sloppy with a mixture of saliva and precum. “Please, Rhett. I need it.” 

It’s obviously enough for Rhett because he hauls Brendon up, turning him around and pulls him back until he’s straddling Rhett’s hips. He can tell Rhett’s holding his cock steady, using it to stroke along the line of Brendon’s ass, he can feel Rhett breaching his hole, teasing in and out of him. 

Brendon can’t catch his breath. Between the teasing, and the look on Link’s face, he feels completely overwhelmed. He feels like he might fall apart just from this. Finally, without warning, Rhett pulls Brendon’s hips down hard onto him, grunting instruction for Brendon to ride him. It takes every ounce of will inside him to begin moving. His whole body feels heavy and out of his control, but he can’t let Rhett down. He has to do this, for him. 

“C’mere, bo.” Rhett beckon’s Link forward, long arm outstretched to wrap his hand around his best friends cock, guiding him back to Brendon’s mouth, stroking steady in a rhythm to match Brendon’s sucking. 

Link is suddenly pitching forward, hand moving to the back of the couch, crashing his mouth down into Rhett’s, fucking his hips into Brendon’s hot waiting mouth. Brendon’s never felt so used, so wrecked, pulled between these two men who are singularly focused on each other. It’s so fucking hot, hitting him all at once, his whole body singing as Rhett thrusts deep, nailing his prostate on every stroke. He can feel tears leaking from his eyes with the effort of breathing around Link’s cock. He’s falling apart and falling apart and his cock streaks hot white cum all over his tight belly, completely untouched. 

It’s like a domino effect, his orgasm triggering Rhett’s, and Rhett rips away from Link’s mouth, demanding roughly, “Come with me, Link. Now. He said he was sorry, I think he deserves your forgiveness.” And Link obeys, filling Brendon’s mouth with warmth.

Brendon can’t stop shivering, body totally spent. Rhett pulls him back against him, still buried deep inside, hands stroking down his arms first, then stroking over his chest, not minding the cooling streaks of white painting Brendon’s belly. 

He’s whispering into Brendon’s ear “so good, fuck, you were perfect.” A glowing warmth is settling over Brendon, one he doesn’t understand but is desperate to keep. 

“Yeah,” Link agrees, still breathless. “Gosh, that was…” he stops to chuckle, then tosses a hand out, smacking Brendon lightly along his ribs. “Hey! I forgive you and all...but you still owe me a new microphone. It really was my favorite.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at lighterheadheavyheart.tumblr.com


End file.
